A Game of Chess
by Candiordo
Summary: They were not new to the game of deception. He wore a mask of benevolence. She wore a mask of submissiveness. What happens when they see through this masquerade? KallenxSchneizel
1. Angry and Amused

Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

Hello! I know it's weird that I'm doing such a pairing but I find it interesting to note that somehow, it could work. Their personalities match each other, albeit ironically contradictory too, for one. And for the appeal, they are of opposite sides, of opposite ideals and affiliations that makes it more thrilling to write something romantic between them.

This happens pre-code geass series, but not necessarily following the anime nor manga plot.

As for the reviews, please be nice. I know most people won't approve of this, but I'll write it anyway.

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><p><em>If she only knew how much I hate her as well. Damn her and the Britannians. Damn them all, damn it!<em>

_Damn it. Damn __**this**__._ She didn't deserve this. No, not at all. That stepmother of hers surely knows how to make her life a living hell. Kallen knew that though she didn't explicitly say so, her stepmother hated her with a passion.

Beads of sweat flew in the air as Kallen ran around the living room for that pesky little brat her stepmother calls her cousin. "Oliver!" she called, picking up the flowers he knocked down when he scurried away from her.

A chair fell over as small feet made its way out the corridor. "Oliver!" She called again.

Thank goodness she was fast. Her lean legs strode across the marble floor as the tips of her fingers grabbed the collar of the young boy and pulled it in the gentlest possible way. She wanted to scream at him, but that was so unlike her in this controlled façade she was pulling. Instead, she patted the brunette bangs of her so-called "cousin".

"Don't ever do that again."

Round brown eyes looked up at hers and Oliver smiled. He looked too innocent to do anything naughty, but she knew better. She side-stepped to her right to anticipate the escape, but she was met with a tackle to her legs and she fell butt first on the uncarpeted floor as he made his getaway.

_I'm gonna kill that kid._

The bright sun from outside blinded Kallen when the door suddenly opened to allow Oliver's disappearance into the garden. Her steps became faster as she ran around looking for signs of that designer powder blue shirt he wore, but all she saw were the multi-colored roses that were ironically giving the Stadtfeld estate such a cheery appearance.

Green eyes were narrowed, scanning the large garden for any trace of that kid. Her hands were itching with frustration because she couldn't do anything rash. Instead, she brushed off the dust that clung to her dress. DAMN. Today was her graduation from Ashford and she couldn't afford to look like garbage. Her stepmother surely forgot about it when she learned that she was to babysit Oliver _today_. As in right _now_. An _hour_ from the start of the ceremony.

_Bitch_.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw the gate open, the hinges creaking as it swayed back and forth.

The sole of her shoes brushed the ground and she sprinted towards the direction of the sidewalk like her life depended on it, not caring anymore if the make-up gets ruined nor if her hair gets tangled. If she doesn't get to Oliver, accidents can happen.

_Fuck this day and all Britannians._

_How can it possibly get worse?_

* * *

><p>"Your majesty, you will have an appearance in Ashford Academy at 10 am. You are to be the guest of honor who will give the graduation speech." Kanon leafed through the prince's organizer of activities, his blue eyes reading the details of the text.<p>

"Due to Prince Clovis' racist remark on international television the other day, the palace has considered this as good PR. Furthermore, the palace has stressed that you must be seen in public in this car made by the non-Britannian citizens of Area 11. It will establish that the remark of Prince Clovis does not necessarily express the opinion of the entire royal family."

Schneizel rested his back on the soft, black leather seat and contemplated on the activity. He will have a meeting with the minister of defense at 11 in the farther side of town. It was of utmost importance that he be there on time because of the urgent matter at hand. But, because of Clovis' stupidity, he must do everything necessary to repair the damage on to their name first.

"Is that all?"

"No, your majesty. Apparently, the valedictorian of this batch is half-Britannian, half-Eleven. The palace wants you to employ her as your personal secretary." Kanon briefly glanced at the prince and saw that Schneizel wore that smile he could not really comprehend.

"The palace wants me to employ a woman of Eleven origin as my personal secretary? And what are her qualifications aside from her being a valedictorian?"

"Well, your majesty, it seems the palace has done a thorough research of her abilities. She has an IQ almost equivalent to that of yours, Prince, and having many opportunities because of receiving a Britanian standard of education, she is knowledgeable in different languages such as French, Eleven, English, Spanish and German. She is also a practitioner of several martial arts as well as having commendable skills in sharpshooting. What is interesting to note; however, is that she is of noble blood as well. She is of the Stadtfeld family."

_Interestingly absurd. A bastard daughter. _"Very well, then."

They drove smoothly through the streets of Area 11, expecting nothing unusual. The people, Eleven or not, avoided the cars of the royal family for obvious reasons. The security entourage for one family member comprises of four vehicles and 4 motorcycles, with each man armed and prepared to shoot. But today, the entourage comprised only of half, with the men carrying less visible weapons. Another PR effort deemed appropriate by the palace.

He proved that this day will be uneventful, another day of governing the empire, another day of tireless diplomatic tactics, strategies affecting the workings both local and international, and both internal and external. The cycle of running an empire was not easy…and yet he found it to be like a game of chess. One needs kings, queens, knights and pawns. Without the kings and queens, there will be no game, and without the pawns, then there can be no king nor queen, nor knight. It has always been a game of logic, of strategy, of deception. And it has always been a game he is good at.

Yet in fact, in order to keep on winning, one must do menial duties such as these to ensure that there still remains a game to be won—that the order will remain established and the same.

And he was here to keep that balance and to emerge as the victor.

* * *

><p>"Come back here!"<p>

Kallen ran as fast she could. Though she is a fast runner, Oliver had a lot of energy for someone his size. And to make things more difficult, she was wearing heels. She was just thankful that she lost her bob haircut and replaced it with a pixie. It will save her a lot of time untangling her hair and fixing it again for graduation. But still, this babysitting did _not_ happen at the right time.

Kallen turned right at the corner and saw Oliver catching his breath. The little boy was sweating like crazy, but he still seems to be enjoying the escape act. His small fingers grasped the lamp post, his chest heaving like he ran a marathon. She slowed down and approached him.

"Hey Oliver. Let's get home, now. I don't care if I have to drag you to get back. I need to go somewhere."

She was really hoping that he understood what she was saying but she really wanted to receive her diploma today. And thank heavens, he hasn't made a move yet. Kallen moved closer and closer until he was about an arm's reach. "We're going home now, okay?" She was about to grab his arm when he suddenly bolted into the intersection.

"Oliver! Come back!"

She looked up at the walk sign, and fortunately it was green. Kallen hurried after Oliver, her arm outstretched to grab him, but he was an inch farther from her hold. His feet still rushed towards the pedestrian lane and her shoes are not making it any easier to catch up.

The sound of an engine took her attention, and despite the stoplight being on red, a group of vehicles didn't slow. Her heart pounded as Oliver made the first step on the road. And her heart resounded in her brain as two motorcycles breezed in front and behind Oliver, blocking her way. Kallen rushed to him when they were gone, and grabbed the stunned boy's arm. But to her surprise and her fright, a vehicle was driving on towards them until it stopped barely two feet away.

She felt something forming in her as she mustered up the strength to collect on her right fist and hit the hood of the stranger's car. "You asshole! Can't you see you're not supposed to go? What are you, blind? There was a kid on the pedestrian lane, dumbass!" Kallen kicked the bumper and led themselves out of the street.

She kept on spouting curses, evil, angry words at the vehicle that almost ran them over. Kallen muttered a lot more as they made their way home. Oliver was still scared, but not traumatized, which is lucky. She gave him a good, calm lecture about being a good boy and he didn't seem to complain. And what's better is that, she still had time to change and to fix herself for the graduation. She won't forget that incident today, but, she wasn't going to let it ruin anything else more than her stepmother and that shit of a driver already did.

She was going to graduate as a valedictorian. And the school has written to her about something big which would be revealed today, which made her all the more excited. She hurriedly changed her clothes, and fixed her make-up and her hair. Kallen grabbed her purse and let the chauffeur drive her towards the academy.

Oh, this day was about to become better. Finally.

* * *

><p>"You asshole! Can't you see you're not supposed to go? What are you, blind? There was a kid on the pedestrian lane, dumbass!"<p>

Kanon and Prince Schneizel were stunned. The silence in the vehicle seemed so sudden and unusual that neither the chauffeur nor Kanon disrupted it. The motorcycles came back and knocked on the windows to signal the chauffeur to open the windows. "Your majesty, have you been hurt? Would you want us to go after them to show you some respect?" The biker asked the prince. But there came no reply. The prince simply motioned for the chauffeur to move on. His signature smile contorted into an amused expression.

He didn't expect that. He didn't expect that at all. Such a bold woman slamming her fist on an expensive car and kicking it like every ounce of anger she felt was expressed. He will not forget that face. Maybe he felt insulted, but he was more amused.

"Prince Schneizel, are you alright?"

He turned his attention to his right hand man.

"It intrigues me that you ask that question. The boy was almost run over was he not? And yet you direct that question to me? Regardless of our security measures ensuring the safety of the royal which disregards even the simplest laws, it is such an irony. It was brought to our attention by a law-abiding citizen, completely unaware that she was reprimanding someone with my stature. Is it not comical?"

"Yes, I believe so."

Schneizel crossed one of his legs over the other, his eyes shuffling through the Britannian neighborhood. He liked the unexpected. There was not so much as a change in the daily routine of things. The only unusual things he experienced are the breaches of security. And even that was not common. And here he was. But no matter, that incident was something to keep in mind in the future, and if such happens again, he would not be as lenient as he was now. He simply found it amusing, the thought of it all, and how he let her get away with it.

It was simply unlike him. And yet, he thought it was not.

"Your highness, we will be in Ashford in five minutes. You will be staying in the Director's office suite to prepare and to chat with the Director himself regarding the valedictorian, Miss Stadtfeld. It seems she has no idea about the plans of the palace and the arrangements they have done with the school, and the fact that you will be her employer."

"The Director of Ashford wants me to personally relay the news to the girl?"

"No, your highness. Not the director, but the palace. Apparently, he has not been informed of this employment until recently. The palace thinks it's part of good publicity that you are offering her the chance of a lifetime to be working with you."

His jaw tightened, but still retaining the amused expression. "Fine. But let us see first how capable this half-Eleven is."

He wanted to scoff. He found the dictates of the palace, though reasonable, are shaping the way he does things, albeit in a way he was not used to at all. He was _not_ the pawn. He was not the king, nor knight. He was the one playing the game and everyone is at his disposal. He was the overseer, the puppetmaster, the onlooker.

The palace may have found her more than capable. But, we will see about that. He will prove that they have no right to meddle in his affairs. He is Schneizel el Britannia, the Second Prince of the Britannian Imperial Family, and the Prime Minister of the Holy Britannian Empire.*

And he does not take orders.

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><p>*From wikia (.comwiki/Schneizel_el_Britannia)

So, what do you think?

Please review! Thank you! :)


	2. Deceptive Impressions

Thanks for the reviews, the views, and the subscriptions and those who listed this story as one of their favorites!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

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><p>Schneizel sat across the director of the school, Mr. Ruben Ashford, the elder explaining the situation at hand. He did not find it amusing that there was a failure of communications among all the parties involved regarding this particular endeavor. But he waved off this inadequacy because there was certainly no room for any argument about fixing this rather sensitive situation they were in.<p>

More than a local issue, it was international. The Britannian empire, despite its size and power, has unwilling subjects and enemies that when put together are equal to empire itself. Appeasement—that is what is needed especially when the offense threatens the stability of Britannian rule. Give the vast majority something that they want but should be in favor of the Britannian government in the long run. Deciding what course to take is extremely difficult given that there are serious consequences for every decision made. And this was the best solution they had come up with.

"Mr. Ashford, what we have is a summary of her accomplishments in academics and extra-curricular activities. But his majesty would like to know, how is her character? Is she known for harboring any anti-Britannian sentiment or something similar to that sort? She is half-Eleven after all. And written here, in a report, her family affairs have been not the ideal especially when her brother, who strongly opposed the Britannian occupation, died." Kanon asked, his fingers ready to note everything down in his book.

The old man shifted in his seat, with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Your majesty, I personally have met this young woman. And she is of exemplary character. She does not have any revolutionary streak in her blood. She has no reason to hate Britannians. Her father favors her, although he is mostly overseas. And her stepmother takes care of her. Furthermore, she is a quiet type of person. Very proper, soft-spoken, obedient, diligent, and hard-working. The ideal student. And her circle of friends are the Student Council members, one of which, the President, is my granddaughter."

The prince's secretary took in his words, and wrote some down. "So you do not have any reason to believe that she will at some point abandon loyalty to the empire and to Prince Schneizel himself?"

"I do not believe so. No."

Kanon closed his notebook, and nodded at the prince to signal the end of the interview. Schneizel crossed his legs and looked directly at the old man.

"Director Ashford, I want to express my gratitude for taking the time and responding to my inquiries about Miss Stadtfeld. However, all the things you have told me are all said in a positive light is it not? And does not fully encapsulate everything? I understand that you have a hardcopy of every student profile here in your office. I heard that it is a more detailed report in comparison to what I have since it continually tracks her progress in school, and keeps updated information about her private life for security purposes both for the academy's and hers. And it also has a photo, which we have not been fortunate enough to have in possession due to the hasty collection of data."

"Ah. Yes. Yes. Your majesty, would you like to see it?"

Schneizel gave him his all too-famous smile. "Yes, please."

Ruben Ashford hurriedly came over to his file cabinet and unlocked the drawer where the particular folder was found. He skimmed through several names, and returned to the prince, holding a moderately-thick profile held together in a long manila folder. Gloved hands took it and opened the confidential report.

He skimmed through the papers. Schneizel read every detail his attention landed on, but it was information he already knew. Kallen Stadtfeld…seventeen years old…half-Eleven…noble…stepmother. Everything on that page was everything the old man told him. It was a redundant task to reread every single word. He turned to the next page, expecting similar contents. But his vision was unprepared for the striking familiarity he was met with when he gazed upon the photo of his new personal secretary.

Except for the haircut, he recognized that face.

Schneizel closed the student portfolio and handed it to Kanon.

"Mr. Ashford, I'm afraid we have a slight change in plans. I can no longer be the speaker for this ceremony. My assistant will fulfill this honor in my place. It seems I have to discuss some matters with my new employee."

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><p>Running was the theme for the day, and she wasn't stopping any time soon. Kallen passed classrooms where she was sure students are buzzing and busy with farewells and fixing their togas and their hats. She can see the auditorium all-fixed with banners and streamers from the windows as she breezed through the empty hallways. It was a little odd that she hasn't seen anybody except for a whole lot of guards and a few teachers as she got down from her car. But nevertheless, she had to rush.<p>

Her heels dug into the marble floor as she made her way towards the Student Council room for that one final ritual "of friendship" to culminate all the years they spent together in Ashford—a picture-taking session with Milly, Rivalz, Nina, and Shirley and she was already five minutes late.

Those were her friends. Call it hypocrisy but they were the best people she ever met. And they were Britannians. They can make her giggle. They made her feel everything other than sadness, anger, frustration from the daily burdens and problems of her mundane existence in this tragic world. Her friends made living so full of energy that she wished she had. It was more than company they gave her. They gave her a sense of who she really is despite her masquerade. They were the people who made her smile like she never hid anything.

But she can never be who she really is with them. She will always wear a mask. People will always think that she is timid, soft-spoken—a _nice_ girl. They will never see what lies behind it and she doesn't intend to change that soon. They will always see someone who, despite her half-Eleven blood, is a Britannian by name and by appearance. And they will never know the truth unless she says so.

It was a hard task to separate who people think she is from her true self, but after what happened to Nii-san, she can't bring herself to fully trust any Britannian again. Not that she didn't trust her companions, she did. It was just that she trusted them as friends, but not as Britannians. And there was a big difference between those two words: Britannian and friend.

There was a clear demarcation between the two terms. And that she knew all too well.

Kallen shrugged away her distracting thoughts. She turned right, her pace slow. She anticipated one final moment of happiness before they all move on with their lives—one final celebration before they take their last bow in high school. She anticipated hugs, kisses, and sincere words before they will be able to get their diplomas.

She turned the gold knob of the familiar cream-colored door, and with the sunlight in her eyes, she made out their silhouettes despite the glaring beam blinding her. She entered the room, keeping her expression blank and calm, but with the anticipation of the onslaught of cameras just flashing dangerously close to her face.

But nothing happened.

She made another step, her eyes adjusting to the brightness of the room, focusing on the silhouettes of her friends. Behind the big desk of the student body president they all stood, but as she drew nearer, the shapes of their bodies were becoming less and less familiar. A few steps more, and there was rage and disbelief igniting within her, albeit her expression remained the same.

"Miss Kallen Stadtfeld, you are late."

Prince Schneizel el Britannia was in the Student Council room.

And he knew her name.

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><p>The young woman stood before him, somewhat startled with his presence. The momentary shock that flashed in her eyes was immediately replaced with something fiery and strong but placated beneath a dead expression. Schneizel eyed the Stadtfeld girl's face and he knew he was right. This was the girl that unknowingly insulted him and his entourage this morning. She looked different, that is for certain—as if a total contradictory personality to what he had witnessed.<p>

He motioned for Kallen to enter the room and his guards went to her side. She sat down on one of the chairs in front of the large wooden table, her head hung low, avoiding eye contact with the prince. Her hands were placed on her lap, her ankles crossed—her posture befitting a Britannian noble.

"Kallen," Schneizel waited for her to turn to him. "Do you know why I am here?"

Despite the familiarity by the usage of the prince of her first name, she did not feel flattered. She felt insulted. He knew she was half-Eleven. He knew that it was rude to just call someone by his or her first name. She clutched the fabric of her dress slightly, but she remained calm and she took it upon herself that she will be cooperative with this so-called _royal_ so that she could go to her graduation.

"No, your highness."

The prince crossed his fingers together. "Let me tell you then. Last week or so you have received a letter from the director, am I correct?"

"Yes."

One of the guards came over and gave him an envelope. The prince held up the object and showed her the back. Kallen read the small caption and saw that it was addressed to her, from the Office of the Second Prince, of the Holy Britannian Empire, Schneizel el Britannia. From _him_.

"This is yours. I want you to read it."

He drew his hand nearer to Kallen's reach. But just as she was about to grab it, he took it back.

"For a moment. How inconsiderate of me." He took a letter opener from Milly Ashford's desk and neatly cut through the flap of the envelope. As he was slicing through the piece of paper, tension rose in the room. There was an uneasiness, an uncomfortable ambience and everyone felt it except Kallen and the prince. She was annoyed. And he, on the other hand, silently entertained.

He finally removed the last of the glue holding the envelope together before he gave it to Kallen. "My apologies. A gentleman should have immediately taken into consideration the laborious work your delicate fingers will exert if I had given this letter unopened."

She merely nodded in thanks. "I am grateful, my prince. You are too kind."

The young woman bit her tongue. This was beyond tolerable, but still, it was for the best that his _majesty_ had opened the envelope lest she take out the knife she had in handy from her purse. _Oh, how much trouble would that have caused._ She took the letter and slowly unfolded it, ignoring the fact that the Britannian was watching her. Her eyes immediately took note of the Britannian crest and the Imperial Family's coat of arms and continued to read on.

_Dear Miss Kallen Stadtfeld…to inform you that you are to be employed…as the Second Prince's personal secretary…generous compensation for your services…until his majesty terminates your employment. _

Schneizel looked on with hidden amusement with the girl's reaction. Her eyes that were lifeless slits turned into round, emerald saucers. He noticed the little crumpled areas as her fingers struggled not to tear through the fragile surface. Those green eyes burning with something strong this morning was making a second appearance.

"Miss Stadtfeld, how do you find this opportunity?"

The sound of his voice broke her trail of thought. "Uh, yes. I am honored, your majesty."

Schneizel stood up and beamed. "Miss Stadtfeld, I am glad that you are delighted." He moved away from the desk and turned towards her. "Come. I must show you something." He offered his arm and she hesitantly took it. They moved in the direction of the balcony doors and the guards hurriedly held it open.

The air from outside breezed through the couple. She released her hold as they stood in the rather picturesque view of the academy. To her left, she can see the auditorium; and to her right, a number of luxury cars and chauffeurs in the spacious garden parking lot. Schneizel stood beside her, as if waiting for her to notice something. But she ignored him and leaned on the metal railing, disregarding how close he stood and how he towered over her.

Kallen was admiring the view of the academy, at the same time looking for the fastest way to the auditorium after this hellish ordeal. A whip of cool wind tickled her skin, but the hairs all over her body stood up as the smooth sleeve of the prince's blazer brushed against her bare arm. He was dangerously close, and she was in danger of smacking her purse on the royal's face.

His shadow loomed over her, and the prince's head dipped low, his lips too close for her comfort. In reflex, her shoulder rose, a futile attempt to protect her personal space.

"Miss Stadtfeld, no need to be alarmed. I simply have a request for you."

The girl looked straight ahead, uncomfortable, but standing her ground despite the proximity. There was a hint of worry, but there was an overpowering sense of pride and he knew she will not run away. Schneizel moved his lips closer to her ear and smirked. "I want you to look on near that gate, and tell me, does it strike you as something recognizable?"

She inched away from him, and leaned forward. Her eyes scanned the area where he was pointing. Kallen looked for the largest gate near the intricately-designed fountain, and there was only one thing that was not there before: a black vehicle, heavily guarded with soldiers. "My prince, is that what you speak of?"

"Correct, my dear."

Her brows met in confusion. "What of it, your highness?"

He moved behind her, but leveled his head down and whispered. "Can't you recall? I will refresh it for you then."

She can imagine him giving her that politician's smile from behind. Her heart was thumping with mixed emotions but it bordered more on frustration and rage than anything else. She couldn't understand what point he was making and where this was going to lead, but she continued her examination of that particular vehicle and wondered what this fuss was all about, and why she was missing her graduation for _this_.

"'_You asshole. Can't you see you're not supposed to go?_' Were those your exact words, _Kallen_?"

She stiffened at his words. She was taken aback. How could she forget? The shiny black metal glimmered in the sunlight, and contoured on the hood is a small, dent-like shape accentuated by the bright, curved light. She grimaced. The prince was mocking her, that's for sure. But she didn't want to blow her cover—no, not for him, not for _anyone_ to see. It's either she swallow her pride or be in trouble and prolong this unlucky encounter.

Kallen slowly turned around, Schneizel giving her some space, but she still refused to meet his eyes. "I am dreadfully sorry, my prince. I didn't mean to attack you this morning. I was worried about my cousin." She looked down, feigning guilt.

_God, did she lie. _

To her surprise, the prince took her hand, and covered it with his other one.

"There is no need to apologize. I admire you for what you did this morning. Very brave. But, I am saying all this to you not because I want to humiliate you nor do I expect you to pay for damages, but because I expect respect from you, Miss Stadtfeld—as your employer and as your prince. Furthermore, this is a mere test of your character. Would it have been another young noble woman like yourself, she would have broken down in tears. This is simply to see if you are fit for this job."

Schneizel waited for her to say something, but instead, he noticed her stance was becoming defiant, her face expertly manipulated to remain expressionless. But he saw through this by looking into her eyes and came to see what he never saw when he talked to anyone: fire. He needed to fan it, add more fuel, so to speak. He needed her to crack. To see that she is incapable—to prove the palace was wrong with this approach, to prove himself right.

_Oh, he will make this day more interesting for him_.

The prince innocently grinned at her, which reminded Kallen of Oliver's smile when he was about to do something naughty.

"I'm sure you desire to attend your ceremony, but I regret to say that I am not yet finished with you yet. You will accompany me to my meeting with the minister of defense."

* * *

><p>To describe the car ride as unpleasant was an understatement. The prince, being the politician he was, obviously irritated her with his angelic façade. As a gentleman, he was nice enough to start conversations, and he asked her about her father and her academics. But she knew that he already knew that, given that he wouldn't even consider employing her if he didn't have sufficient knowledge about her already. His skills for small talk surely did wonders for the short trip. <em>Boy, was she tempted to jump out.<em>

And here she was, in a long table with generals and soldiers, sitting beside the prince himself. She was given looks when she entered the room with him, but maybe it was because she was the only female there. But she didn't really care. For an hour, they were discussing their enemies and their progress, and now, they were speaking of bombing their territories. It was none of _her_ business.

"Your majesty, if we attack them now, when they least expect it, we will succeed in eliminating their leaders. Furthermore, since we have information of their exact whereabouts, we can minimize the number of casualties. From our initial estimation, the bombing will render 500,000 casualties, but because of this recent development, it will be lowered to 300,000."

Kallen rolled her eyes. She wanted to scoff. _500,000 to 300,000?_ Britannians surely know how to do mathematics, but in terms of morality and ethics, they were obviously lacking.

Schneizel paused in thought, and it didn't escape his attention what the young girl just did. It was a different reaction from most of the people in the room who seemed to unanimously agree. He has his own opinions of the matter, but he would rather hear Kallen's first. "Miss Stadtfeld, what do you think?" All the men turned their heads towards her.

She gave him a blank but surprised look.

"Certainly, after all this talk, you have some thoughts about it. What do you think of this plan?"

Kallen looked at the map, quite unsure of what to say, but since he asked, she will say whatever was on her mind. She would be glad to talk about her _feelings_ on this. It wasn't a different situation in Area Eleven. She took a deep breath before she spoke.

"I think that—"

"M-my prince, surely she doesn't know anything." One of the generals cut her short.

Another cleared his throat. "Yes, my prince, it is safe to presume that this young lady doesn't have the knowledge nor the comprehension to come up with a helpful opinion about this. It is not wise to consult someone who has no military experience whatsoever."

A man who sat in the edge of the table abruptly stood up. "Your majesty, we do not need an Eleven's thoughts about our plans. Surely, one who is of primitive origins cannot possibly have the mental capacity to take all in this information. One who has bad blood—the blood of a non-Britannian, and an Eleven at that cannot help but speak of rubbish, being that they are also rubbish. Even more so, this woman, who I cannot say is truly a noble, is the daughter of an Eleven bitch. She does not have a say in things. She is just scum like her mother."

Her fist came down on the wooden table so hard, it shook their fine porcelain cups. The force that she exerted created damage on the piece of furniture, seemingly like a coarse crater on the smooth, varnished surface. Her knuckles were ruddy with splinters, and red dots were visible on the abused flesh. Kallen stood up and fixed her gaze on all of them.

"I think that this plan of yours has the trademark of being a true Britannian. You reduce lives of people to numbers. You speak of bombs as if they were the only solution. You talk of casualties as if they were a hindrance. Certainly my voice does not count in military affairs since I am not a soldier, not a politician, nor even a pure Britannian. But I can say in the perspective of a human being, despite my Eleven origin, that this bombing is inhumane. Not only have you not started negotiations, but you chose to use drastic measures instead.

You would rather stay comfortable in these chairs where you discuss matters far from where they are. You would rather not talk to these people because of your Britannian pride all stuck up into your heads. You are not fighting a war. You are destroying lives of the other party just because you can, and with them being unable to retaliate because in the first place, they have no military capability. You are committing murder. The honor you say that is innate in Britannian blood does not exist. When you do this, you are proving yourselves to be the opposite of what you believe you all are, and that is, a criminal."

Schneizel signaled his guards to approach her but she raised her hands in protest before they got a hold of her. She took the letter he gave from her purse and tore it into pieces.

"Your majesty, I just realized that I do not want to be associated with people like you and like them. Not only do you humiliate me and mock me, but you dishonor my father's name and my mother's. I apologize for taking up much of your time, but I cannot and I will not apologize for what I have said."

"All hail Britannia." She threw the fragments of the paper into the air, and bowed.

Like leaves, the torn pieces floated in the air, and the sound of Kallen's heels departing the room muffled the furious voices of the empire's generals.

* * *

><p>It was a good thing she had enough money to take a cab. It was very unfortunate that she forgot her phone at home, and that her money lasted until it was a good fifteen-minute walk from her house. And the fact that she was still wearing heels. This was by far, the worst day of her life.<p>

Not only did she miss her graduation day, she missed seeing her friends for the last chance in school to share this special day. It was frustrating that she was there on time and she wasn't able to go just because _Prince_ Schneizel just decided for her not to. If she knew about this _opportunity _being offered to her just because she was a valedictorian, then she would have gladly skipped studying.

With the tips of her fingers, she gently massaged the sore area on her right hand. It still hurt. She was able to remove the splinters in the taxi and was able to put on some alcohol, but it was still painful and red. This is what she gets for not being able control her temper. She couldn't say that she regretted it though, but she just couldn't believe that she exploded like a volcano a while ago.

Sure, her job opportunities would dwindle down to zero if the prince decides to blacklist her. Sure, she just flushed her future down the toilet since she wouldn't be able to work neither for the private sector nor for the government. But, it felt awfully good to just say everything she wanted to say—to be unrestricted and unladylike, to be improper and angry and brutish. She definitely can be charged with treason with what she did, but at least she was able to speak her mind.

Kallen walked for the longest time, but as she neared her house, she deliberately walked at a snail's pace. From here, there were no more vehicles in the driveway, which was good since that meant Oliver has gone home and that her stepmother was still out doing God knows what.

At least, alone, she would be able to use the phone without that woman hogging it. Then, she would be able to, at least, call her friends. She can also wear whatever she wants, and eat whatever she wants. She can do whatever _the hell_ she wants.

She picked up her pace and opened the gate. Once on the porch, she removed her shoes and led herself to the direction of her room. Her bare feet touched the cool, flat ground, and it felt so relaxing to her sore and tired feet. The smell of supper cooking was flooding her nose and she let hunger overcome her. She was so excited to just have this time for herself and not worry about anything else.

_Finally._

Kallen relished the silence, and she stretched her arms over her head, her eyes closing briefly as felt her muscles loosen up, all the while still walking towards the stairs, her attention focused straight ahead. She lazily put her purse beneath her underarm and removed the first button at the back of her dress with one hand. The restrictive silhouette of the dress squeezed her body, especially now that she was sweating from her "exercise". Her fingers moved lower to the zipper, and started to unzip.

"Ahem."

The sound of a feminine, deliberate cough took Kallen's attention and she quickly turned around to face the parlor.

It was her stepmother and another person, a male guest. He didn't look anybody familiar but his green hat and green and white uniform suggests that he works for the Britannian government. He bowed courteously when she looked at him. The witch motioned for her to move closer, and so she did. The three of them sat down and the brown-haired man introduced himself.

"Good Afternoon, Miss Stadtfeld. My name is Kanon Maldini and I am Prince Schneizel's assistant. I am here to forward to you a message from the prince. What you experienced is a most unfortunate incident, and his majesty would like to express his sincerest apologies on behalf of the generals present in the meeting you just attended. Do you accept his apology?"

Kallen paused for a moment to think, but the scathing look of her stepmother provoked a reply from her too early to comprehend if that was what she really wanted to say. "Yes."

Kanon took the large box beside him and gave it to her. "Then, this is for you. But before you open it, I would just like to say a few more things, another message, since you accepted his majesty's apology. From the affirmative reply you have given this morning to Prince Schneizel regarding your employment as his personal secretary, and your acceptance of his apology, you have given him no reason to terminate your employment, and thus, you are to leave this estate by tonight to begin your training tomorrow. And for the inconveniences that his majesty has caused you today, he has deposited, with his personal money, a generous amount to your father's bank account and to _yours…_And without further delay, you may now be able to prepare yourself before we leave in half an hour. Did you get all of that, Miss Stadtfeld?_"_

She nodded in response.

Her stepmother reached out to Kallen and patted her hand. "Dear, I had the maids fix your clothes. Just check if they missed out on anything."

Kallen stood up and swiftly walked to her room, still holding the large box with her. She tore off the single bow in front and the card with her name on it. She removed the lid, and surprisingly, what lay beneath it were a dozen white, long-stemmed roses. They were beautiful, truly, but it came from such a rotten man that she can't feel the sincerity of his apology which should have radiated from the flowers.

She spotted another card tied on a ribbon holding the twelve stems, and she cut off the knot with her knife. It was another envelope, albeit smaller than what she received earlier. She took the card out, and flipped it open, but instead of looking at her name or a Britannian crest and the Imperial Family's coat of arms, there were only three words.

_You were right._

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><p>Please read and review! :)<p> 


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